Peigi kept shooting Stuart smiles full of hot promise as they returned to camp, Peigi dressed again, and Stuart’s blood burned. The kiss they’d shared on the riverbank had been sizzling, making Stuart want to carry her away and make love to her, screw the battle, screw ruined iron talismans.
Only the cold, damp ground, the snarling Shifters, and the wild screams of celebrating dokk alfar had stopped him. He wanted Peigi somewhere warm, soft, and private.
Cian’s expression was bleak as Stuart told him in more detail about the destruction of the karmsyern and the appearance of the Tuil Erdannan. Cian let out a few colorful words Stuart hadn’t heard since he’d been much younger.
“We’re fucked,” Cian concluded.
“Maybe,” Stuart said. “What we’re hoping is that Lady Aisling will be amenable to making another one for the dokk alfar. If she hears her husband is involved, that might motivate her on your side. I got the feeling the two aren’t exactly on the best terms.”
Cian remained cynical. “The Tuil Erdannan do what they damn well please. As we discussed before, we can’t count on her.”
“I know,” Stuart answered. “But we have friends she likes. I’m going to gamble on that friendship.” He let out a breath. “Face it—it’s all we’ve got.”
Cian growled. “I suppose we don’t have a choice.” He trailed off into phrases that would make a human howl and flee if they knew what they meant. Human swear words were sparkles and glitter compared to the ones in dokk alfar.
“We’ll need to go back through the ley line, or bring our friends to us,” Stuart said, and waited.
Cian frowned. “I told you, I didn’t bring you through this ley line. I have no idea how to send you back.”
Stuart didn’t like the qualm his words gave him. “It doesn’t matter—if we find the ley line and have a spell or a talisman that can get us through, good enough.”
Cian shook his head. “My spell-caster was wounded and hasn’t regained consciousness. He’s hurt too badly to do any chanting any time soon. And I’m fresh out of talismans.”
“Um …” Crispin, who’d been helping bandage wounds of the captive Shifters, rose from kneeling beside a hurt Lupine and came to them. He spoke dokk alfar and would have understood the entire conversation. “I have a talisman you can use. It’s how I crossed over in the first place.”
He reached into his tunic. Stuart grabbed his hand, not trusting he wasn’t going for a weapon, and searched Crispin’s pocket himself. He closed his fingers around something warm and metal, and brought out a small silver medallion fashioned into a Celtic knot.
Stuart studied the medallion in his palm, feeling its tingle of magic. “Why are you volunteering this? I can’t believe you’re suddenly excited to help the dokk alfar.”
Crispin shrugged. “The Tuil Erdannan dude will tell the hoch alfar I sneaked you into the keep, so I won’t be good for anything but a lion skin if I go back to the Fae prince. Besides.” He deflated. “I should go home anyway. Throw myself on Dylan’s mercy.”
Stuart closed his hand around the medallion. “Good choice.”
He didn’t trust Crispin entirely—any Shifter who had chosen to go over to the hoch alfar couldn’t have his priorities straight. But it was worth a try. He would have Cian keep an eye on Crispin while Stuart checked out whether the medallion worked. If the medallion did anything it wasn’t supposed to, Stuart would … Well, he’d think of something.
Cian showed him on the map approximately where Stuart and Peigi had been when they arrived, and where the ley line ran.
The closest point was about a mile from camp. Stuart explained the situation to Peigi, and together they walked out of the teeming camp, making for the ley line.
“That was hot,” Peigi said.
He started. “What was? Asking how to get to the ley line?”
Peigi walked closer to him. “You alone facing the hoch alfar. Whirling your sword like a bad-ass.”
Stuart grinned at her, then he sobered. “Cian was right that he needed an iron master. I didn’t realize what he was up against. And I never guessed the hoch alfar would be able to destroy the karmsyern.”
He didn’t like the tension his words put into Peigi’s eyes. “What will you do?” she asked, voice calm.
“I don’t know yet.”
She meant would Stuart remain in Faerie, lending his magic to Cian? Stuart had learned on his brief journey here years ago to save Cassidy and Diego that his family and all close to him were dead. He’d decided there was nothing left for him. He’d gladly gone back to Shiftertown to be with Peigi and take care of the orphaned cubs.
Now Peigi was his mate. But dokk alfar could die by the thousands if he did nothing. They were strong fighters, but without the karmsyern, and with Shifters turning on them, Stuart’s people needed all the help they could get.
Peigi pulled him to a halt before Stuart could continue. Mist surrounded them, and against it, Peigi’s eyes held warm comfort.
“I know you have to make a choice,” she said. “I’ve struggled with this decision, because I know this is your life, your people, your home.”
Stuart’s body went cold, his heart like lead in his chest. She was going to tell him to leave her, to stay in Faerie with Cian, to save the lives he could. To say good-bye to her, to the cubs, to all he’d come to love. Because it was the right thing to do.
Stuart drew a breath to speak, but Peigi put her fingers to his lips.
“Let me finish. I’ve decided that, whether we’re stuck here, or we go back, or you decide to stay, I stick with you. Doesn’t matter what.”
His throat went dry. “Peigi …”
“Doesn’t matter what. We’re mates. Mates protect each other. Remember what you said to me? That it was stupid that when things were the most dire we split up? Well, I agree.” Peigi slid closer to him, moving her fingers so her breath could touch his mouth. “We stay together. Until this is done.”
The knot in Stuart’s heart dissolved, until he felt light, floating, as free as the mist. “Yeah?” He swallowed. “You’re not just saying that?”
“Nope.” Peigi smiled, which was like sunshine bursting through the worst rainy day ever. “You’re stuck with me. But once we finish what you need to do, we’ll have to go back to Shiftertown, because we promised the cubs. Remember?”
“I remember,” Stuart said, voice gentle. “When I said I didn’t know yet what I’d do, I meant whether or not to come back and help Cian from time to time. I’m definitely going home with you right now. So help me, Goddess.”
Peigi’s smile widened, and she kissed him, quietly and with tenderness. Stuart kissed her back, getting lost in the sweetness of her.
She eased from him after a long, satisfying interval. “I’m glad that’s settled, and without hours and days of drama.” Peigi straightened. “Let’s go find this gate.”
“If Crispin isn’t shitting us about this medallion.”
“Ben was in the house when we were sucked across,” she reminded him. “If anyone can find the residual magic of that and act on it, it’s Ben.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Peigi leaned to him and kissed him once more. “Let’s go find out.”
Peigi sensed exactly when they reached the ley line and the thin veil that separated this world from the other. The air vibrated, as though an electric power plant hummed nearby.
Except for that, this part of the woods looked no different from any other—she’d have never found the place without Cian’s directions.
“So how does this work?” she asked, trying not to shiver.
Stuart slid the medallion Crispin had given him from his pocket and dangled it from its chain. “Hey,” he addressed the air. “Open up.”
Peigi stifled a laugh. “Very mystical.”
Stuart flicked a gaze to her, every line of him taut. “I’m a fighter, not a magic user.”
“And this isn’t an RPG.”
“I wish it were,” Stuart said. “Then I’d just roll dice or click on something.”
Peigi cupped her hands around her mouth. “Ben! Are you there? We need you.”
They waited. The woods remained quiet, the only sound moisture dripping from trees to the damp forest floor.
“The gate won’t necessarily come out in our bedroom,” Stuart said. “Or Kurt’s basement. Or anywhere near our Shiftertown, for that matter. The pockets in between space and time move around. Trust me, I did plenty of research on this, for years.”
Peigi didn’t like the sound of that. What if they emerged in the middle of Antarctica? How did they get home then, if they didn’t simply freeze to death?
“So do we charge around waving the medallion and see what happens?” she asked.
Stuart handed it to her. “You try. I’m realizing that whenever I’ve come through, you’ve been with me. When we went after Diego, there you were—and I hadn’t been able to open a gate before that, no matter how much I tried. The first time Cian summoned me, I got stuck. Maybe the gates still don’t work well for me, but they do for you.”
Peigi wasn’t certain about this theory, but she had nothing to lose by trying. The silver knot was warm from Stuart’s hand and quivered faintly with magic, mirroring the hum she perceived from the gate.
Maybe frequency was the key. Perhaps when the sound waves from the gate and the medallion either melded or canceled each other out, the gate opened.
Peigi held the medallion high, closing her eyes. She could hear better this way, letting the Shifter in her listen.
Earlier this year, Donny had become obsessed with learning how to play guitar. Cormac had brought him one and taught Donny to tune it.
When Cormac plucked two strings—one fretted, one open—to produce the same note on each string, the vibrations between the two produced a faint wah wah wah sound. That discordance was more pronounced the more out of tune the strings were to each other, and disappeared when the two were perfectly tuned.
Peigi heard a similar sound between the gate and medallion. Now to figure out how to tune it. Peigi couldn’t simply turn a nut to loosen or tighten a string—she had to loosen or tighten a gate.
“Ben?” Peigi called. “Seriously, we need your help.” She thought about how they’d unstuck Stuart from the gate in the basement. “Maybe Matt and Kyle too, if Misty will let them go. They seem to navigate gates without any problem. Also, we’re going to need a Guardian. Unfortunately.” Her words fell away, flat against the damp. “Tell the cubs I love them. If you can hear me, wee ones … I love you.”
Her words caught on a sob. Stuart put his arm around her and drew her close.
The dissonance surged, pushing on Peigi’s eardrums, and then abruptly the two notes merged into one clear, sweet tone.
On top of that came noise, voices talking over each other, each one rising higher to be heard. Over that sounded a stronger, more gravelly voice, far more frustrated.
“If you will all let me hear myself think …” Graham bellowed. “Matt, Kyle, come back here. The rest of you sit down.”
“Oh.” The voice was Ben’s. “I think it’s too late.”
Three cubs charged out of the mist, two wolves and a small grizzly bear. They slammed into Stuart and Peigi, and all five went over in a tangled heap of fur, excitement, and fervent face licking.